Random Fax Oneshots
by shawtie
Summary: Random Fax oneshots from the books -- in Fang's POV! Ever wondered what goes on in that scruffy head of his?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, so this is just a series of Faxy one-shots from the books in Fang's POV… am I the only one that wonders what goes on in his head?

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

Chapter One: Protective – SOF

I lay in bed, disinterestedly picking up a book Anne had lent me. Honestly, action books had nothing on _my _life. I could make a serious amount of money, selling my life. That wasn't a half bad idea; people should know about us.

I glanced up when I heard Iggy's voice, coming from across the hall. He was speaking to Max through the bathroom door.

"Max? Can I come in? I just have to brush my teeth." Oh, right. Teeth. I should brush those, too. Man, this human thing was a lot of work. I couldn't hear Max's answer, but it must have been negative because Iggy called irritably, "I'm _blind." _He paused, apparently listening, then snapped, "Very funny. Well, don't take forever. Primping's not going to do much for you, anyway." He returned down the hall.

Inwardly, I smirked. Max, primping? Yeah, right. She was coated in dirt and blood so often that she wore it like a favorite pair of jeans. Suddenly, an image of Max rose to my mind, unbidden. She was wearing an actually _clean _dress, and her hair was shining, looking alien without its characteristic tangles yet somehow natural at the same time. She was smiling beautifully, her eyes deep and inviting without the wall that usually separated her from the rest of the flock, and her lips…

The sound of the bathroom door across the hall brought me out of my trance. I blinked hurriedly, closing my jaw once I realized it had dropped open. I shook my head, trying to knock some sense back into it – in whose crack-driven mind could there even _be _a universe where Max would wear a dress? – and heard the sound of footsteps racing down the hall. Max. It sounded like… like she was running _away _from something.

_That's ridiculous, _I told myself. _What is there to run away from _here?

Still, I couldn't shake my inner feeling that something was very wrong. Something that had Max upset. Call it my Max feeling, but I usually knew what she was thinking of feeling. I was up on my feet before I even made a conscious decision to move. I had to help her.

Quietly, I eased out of my door and into the hall. If Max had run to her room, she obviously didn't want the others to know what had worried her. I hoped that didn't include me; I _wanted _to help her, too.

I stepped silently down the hall, all senses alert, ready at any moment's notice. I listened for any sign of danger. Nothing. I couldn't hear anything at all. Besides, or course, Gazzy's huge snores.

I continued to Max's room, knocking on the door. Hopefully she hadn't taken off outside by now.

I heard her voice through the door, but I hardly recognized it. I had never seen her let her emotions rule her so entirely, never heard her voice shake, never even seen her show fear. And here she was doing all three with just five simple words: "I'm out of the bathroom," she said, her voice unsteady.

Once I heard her, I put my shoulder to the door, intending to break it down and help Max fight whatever was scaring her. Then I hesitated. Maybe she wouldn't appreciate me barging in there. I adopted a teasing tone, hoping to put her at ease. "Yeah, I can tell, 'cause your voice is coming from in there." That was the way I would normally talk to her, right?

"What do you want?"

Hm. Not an easy question to answer. In regards to Max, anyway. But of course, in the way she meant it, I wanted to help. I had to talk to her face to face. "Can I come in?"

"No!" her shout came through.

If I didn't know her as well as I did, I might take that as rejection and return to my own room. But I _did _know her as well as I did, and that meant I heard the panic in her voice. I almost did wish I didn't know her as well as I did, because that small hint in her voice alone tore at my heart and made me in turn want to tear apart whatever was frightening her.

I swallowed my feeling of murder, opening the door slowly and poking my head around it, just in case she was – indecent. And she partly was; having just gotten out of the shower, her only garment was a towel. That was fine for a brother to see, right? I knocked my brain out of the path it was taking – for the second time in as many minutes. Max needed me right now.

She had fair skin naturally, but normally was a bit darker because of accumulated dirt. Right now, though, was the palest I had ever seen her. She was whiter than a braces-clad kid wearing tighty-whities and singing "Ridin' Dirty." Her eyes looked huge and dark in her scared face, and she was all closed in on herself. It was almost like I could physically see the wall she had erected between the two of us. A wall even more impenetrable than the one that was usually up around her. My Max sense tingled; she wasn't going to tell me what was bothering her, that much I knew. Oh, well. I could still let her know I was there for her, even if I didn't know what was wrong.

Max's hand went up to touch her face, as if reassuring herself it was still there. She glanced, almost involuntarily, down at her hands before returning her gaze to me. She faced me squarely, but almost looked a little – ashamed.

I raised an eyebrow, and came all the way in the room, quietly closing the door. I walked towards her slowly, like I might approach a wild, beautiful animal without startling it. "What's going on?" I asked as gently as I could. Such a change from how I usually spoke to her. Strangely, I liked this way almost better, this way of showing her that I cared, I would protect her.

Of course, it would only work with someone less dense than Max (which would kind of defeat the point as she was the only one I wanted to talk to like that). I don't think she even registered the change in my tone, much less the message I was trying to get across to her. Alright, the subliminal message. I wasn't brave enough to say it to her face.

"I don't know," she said, quieter than I'd ever heard her. "Something's wrong with me, but I don't know what."

I paused, to see if she would elaborate, or tell me to go away, or – or _something. _But no. She was staring motionless at a horror only she could see. I carefully lowered myself on to the bed next to her and gingerly put my arm around her shoulders. I tried to ignore how much I liked having it there, and fought the urge to stroke her still-damp hair. I gently pulled her into my side, and she was unresisting. Just – limp.

I tightened my arm around her. "You'll be okay," I said in my new gentle voice. If I knew anything about Max at all I knew that she always pulled it together for the flock. I felt a warm glow in my chest start when I realized that if it had been any other member of the flock in here, she wouldn't have opened up at all.

"How do _you _know?" she demanded, already sounding a little more like herself.

I almost smiled in relief. Almost. "Because I know everything, as I keep reminding you."

She didn't respond. Oops. Maybe she wasn't quite herself yet.

I continued to try and comfort her, though I had no way of knowing if I was succeeding. "Look, whatever this is, we'll deal with it. We always have before." I hoped she noticed how I put 'we' in there. Inwardly I sighed. Even if she did notice, she would probably just think I meant us and the flock.

"Fang – "

I snapped my attention back to my best friend.

" – if I'm changing, if I'm turning into something… bad – will you deal with it?"

I stayed quiet, seeking more information. I had no idea what she was talking about. Max was the best person I had ever met. Which, granted, wasn't that many, but I had a feeling that even if I searched I wouldn't be able to find anyone as unconditionally _good _as Max.

She took a breath, meeting my gaze. I was almost taken aback by the desperation in them. My heart thumped almost painfully, aware of how close our faces were even if I refused to think about if just now.

"If I turn into an Eraser," she said boldly, "will you deal with it? To protect the others?"

I just looked at her. She was serious, I marveled. Did she really not have that much faith in herself? Did she really doubt the extent of her goodness?

I thought about what she was asking me. Would I ever be able to kill Max? I answered myself: no. First of all, she would beat the crap out of me before I even got a first swing in. And second…no. I couldn't. Not ever. I tried to picture it. Pain flared out from where my heart was. No. I would kill myself before I could ever kill Max.

But she wasn't even asking me to kill _her. _She was asking me to kill an evil, twisted being that may somehow bear a little resemblance to her, as impossible as that may be. This time, when I tried to picture it, I saw myself triumphing because of the hatred I harbored towards the cheap, evil, imitation of the Max I loved. But soon after taking Max's life, I took my own.

What was I doing? This wasn't even worth thinking about, because Max would definitely never be an Eraser. If they tried to graft it into her, Max would fight off the poison somehow by the power of stubbornness. That was just the kind of person Max was. There wasn't anything large enough to compare her mental strength to.

I looked down for a moment to collect myself, then met her gaze, careful to not let any of my feelings show. "Yes. I'll do what has to be done." Which was true.

She gave a relieved sigh, and I was happy I had given her at least a little peace of mind. "Thank you," she whispered.

Whatever was convincing her she would become an Eraser, her worries were for the flock only. I wanted to say something meaningful so she would know she wasn't alone, but her face was morphing into her familiar Max-wall. Cue for me to go.

I stood up, unable to resist squeezing her shoulder as I did so. Immediately I missed the feeling of her thin body under my arm. "You'll be okay," I told her, trying to cover how empty my arm felt. She still looked a little worried, though, so on impulse I leaned down and kissed her forehead, letting my lips linger there maybe a little longer than was necessary. "I promise." I walked quickly towards the door and exited.

Once outside her room, I closed my eyes and allowed myself a small groan. That was _so stupid. That's _the last time I let my emotions get the better of me. _Yeah, right, _I scoffed, entering my own room and shutting the door. Max brought out more emotions in me that I thought it was even possible to _feel. _The plus side was that now my message to Max wasn't so subliminal.

I groaned again, much louder this time, falling back on the bed and throwing my arm across my eyes. Knowing Max, thick, oblivious Max, she would just take it as a natural brotherly gesture. Protective. Supportive. And I _was _those things, I was just other things, too.

_Well, we're only fourteen, _I consoled myself. _Plenty of time to change her thoughts on me. _Besides, it wasn't like she was going to meet any other boys her age at all between now and whenever I made my move.

A/N: I stretched like 300 words into like 2000… well, Fang overthinks _everything. _At least, that's my opinion on him. Review and tell me your thoughts! If you have any ideas for other scenes in the books that I should translate into Fang's POV, drop me a line.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Whoaaaa its been an extremely long time since I've updated! I KNOW that everyone uses school as an excuse, but in my case it's insanely true. Seriously, my L.A. teacher is a dragon. With homework newayz.**

**On with the next chapter..**

Chapter 2: Jealous? – SOF

"Guys! Dinner time!" Anne called from the downstairs floor of the house. She didn't really need to call us; Gazzy and I were on out way downstairs when we had heard the clatter of the first plate hit the table. Iggy was already in the kitchen, of course, being the only chef in this house able to cook steak without burning it to a charred thing resembling what Total left behind when he – did his business.

Nudge walked in the room next. "Hey, Iggy, what did ya make?" I was maybe the only one that observed the embarrassed expression that slid across Anne's face. She must be remembering the disaster that occurred last night when she had attempted to make edible food. Casseroles were _not _meant to be crunchy.

"Steak!" Angel announced, running into the room. "And… oh. Green beans." Her face took on a glazed look, and I was willing to bet she was calling Total in to the kitchen.

"Not my decision," Iggy assured her. No one said anything, but in the silence we were communicating to each other and purposefully avoiding Anne's gaze. _What's with her? It's not like she's our mom._

Max slouched into the kitchen last. That was unusual. She was quiet, as well. Even more unusual. Unnoticed by Anne, Total raced in right behind. He took up his customary position under Angel's chair. All I can say is, she'd better share the walking garbage disposal.

"So… how was school today?" Anne looked expectantly at me. I rolled my eyes inwardly, shoveling steak into my mouth. I already had to spend six and a half torturous hours there every day. If she thought asking about school was a way to get me to talk, she had to stop watching so many old Brady Bunch reruns.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God, I didn't tell you guys!" Nudge exploded suddenly. "Well, Angel probably know – but of course she doesn't _count –_"

I was about to tell her to spit it out, but given our current setting, and the amount of unswallowed food in her mouth, that obviously wasn't a prudent idea. Especially since I was sitting directly across from her.

"What is it, Krystal?" asked Anne, more than willing to humor her. Of course.

"I got invited to a BIRTHDAY PARTY!" she said enthusiastically. "You know, like in the movies! Except hopefully the cake won't explode – and the presents won't be lame ones like wool socks from grandparents – are those even comfortable? – but I need some new clothes!"

"I'll take you shopping," Anne offered at once. "And you guys too, Ariel and Max. We can all go!"

A look of horror passed over Max's face. I nearly grinned. Seriously, Max shopping? Without a gun pointed at her head?

"That is so not true!" Angel burst out, glaring at Max. "We do _not _look like a family of _Olympic swimmers!" _Anne looked confused, being in the dark about Angel's little esp powers.

"Yeah, we do," Iggy said immediately. "I'm Michael Phelps."

I sighed, and meaningfully caught Angel's eye, meaning _send me the dog. _Next moment, there was a nudge on my leg.

"So," Max said, breaking into Iggy and Gazzy's argument about how Iggy would look in a Speedo. She had been very quiet so far this meal, which was about as rare as a streaker without shoes. I hoped she was about to tell us why. I studied her face closely; there was an uncomfortable expression on her face, and yet she looked pleased at the same time. I started when I felt a cold nose on my leg, and began to spoon green beans off my plate.

Max chose that time to finish her sentence. "I, uh, got asked on a date," she said, looking down.

My hand slipped, and all the green beans on the spoon fell with a sickening _splat _to the floor. I stared at her. No. _No._

"You what?" Iggy said, sightless eyes darting to me for a minute before focusing on Max's face. It was hard to hear him over the sudden roaring in my ears.

"I got asked on a date." Amazing how big of an impact six little words could have. It was that loser Sam, wasn't it? I kept seeing them together during passing periods. My hand tightened convulsively on the spoon. I would kill him. I would –

"What a loser!" the Gasman laughed. "What'd he say when you shot him down?"

Watching Max trying to cut her steak, and listening to the sinking feeling in my stomach telling me I was doomed, doomed, I already knew the answer to that question.

"You said yes, didn't you?" Nudge asked cheerfully. She was _happy _for Max.

"Oh, my God. Max on a _date. _I thought we were trying to _avoid _tears and violence and mayhem." Max glared at him defensively. My stomach lurched. I was itching to get up and leave, go anywhere – but I had a feeling that "anywhere" would sooner or later be at Sam's door.

"I think it's great," said Angel. "Max is beautiful. She _should _go on dates."

Well, _duh. _Of _course _Max was beautiful. I had just been counting on our new classmates to not notice. Unfortunately that hope was shot down our very first day when I had watched helplessly as other boys' eyes followed her everywhere.

"What are you going to wear?" Anne was obviously hoping Max would join their shopping trip; if Max didn't come, it would be pretty awkward between Angel, Nudge, and Anne. But somehow I didn't think Max would make an effort to dress up.

"Don't know," Max muttered. Anne smiled and left the room, presumably for work.

"What's his name?" the Gasman wanted to know.

"What, you gonna go pre-approve him or something?" Iggy snorted. "I believe that's _my _job."

"His name is Sam," Max said. "And don't you _dare _talk to him!" she said fiercely. So it _was _Sam. Although he wasn't the only boy I had seen approach Max, he was the one she seemed to be talking to the most, whenever I saw her between classes. I wished we had at least a few together, so I could warn off all the boys like – a big brother. Yeah, a brother. Right.

"Is he cute?" Thank you, Nudge. I would sooner attempt to give Total a bath than listen to this.

Max blushed, and I found myself distracted from my anger for a moment to admire how beautiful she was. Her gaze met mine for a moment, and I tried to read her feelings for this guy in her look. But she dropped her eyes after only a second.

When it was obvious Max wasn't willing to answer, Angel checked that Anne had left the room and said impatiently, "Here, I'll send you all a picture. Except you, Fang. You already know what he looks like." As she said this her glance at me was sympathetic. I stared down at my plate.

Iggy blinked, then shrugged and mumbled something incoherent.

"OMG!" squealed Nudge. "I _have _to see him in person!"

The Gasman alone seemed unimpressed. "I still think you're too good for him." I made a mental note to forgive Gazzy whatever prank he pulled next, even if it was to sabotage an elevator so we were all stuck in a confined space with him. For an hour.

Max rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Father." She stood up. "Well, as _wonderful _as this conversation has been, I think I'm done with it." She left the room.

"Max, wait!" Nudge called. "We still need to go over what you're wearing!" She scampered after, and Angel and Gazzy left to play with the Wii Anne got them. It was just me and Iggy left. We were silent.

"I'm sorry, man," Iggy said finally.

I shrugged like it didn't make a difference, but Iggy had some kind of extra-sensory perception skills. He knew.

"I know how much she means to you," he continued in a low voice, "and I know how oblivious Max is. You'll get through to her eventually."

"Thanks," I muttered. I mean, what was the point in denying it? Iggy knew my feelings for Max, which meant Angel must as well, and probably Nudge. Heck, I was expecting David Letterman to announce it any day now on the late show.

Iggy nodded, then got up and left. It was kind of nice to have a brother the same age as you for helping with problems in your love life. Nonexistent love life, that is.

With no one in the kitchen could I finally permit myself to move, as it would have betrayed my feelings. I slowly lifted the spoon back on to the plate, ignoring the unsteadiness, and buried my face in my shaking hands.

This Sam guy wasted no time, did he? I had depended on us being long gone before any one of Max's admirers worked up the courage to make a move. I wave of anger swamped me, and I pressed my fists harder in to my eyes.

With a bitterness that surprised even me, I recalled my thoughts of a few weeks before. _No competition? _I scoffed. _Yeah, right._

**A/N: The next chapter will be a continuation of this. I have about half of it written and it was originally tacked on to this chapter, but it was getting really long so I just decided to put it up as a separate chapter. Hopefully it'll be up in just a few days!**

**Review with thoughts/ideas/suggestions for later chapters!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Merry Christmas! A few days late. Hope everyone is having a good break! I know I am!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride or the characters.. just Fang's thoughts.**

**Date Aftermath**

I heard the car rolling up the road from a mile away, but that was possibly because I had been holding my breath waiting for it. Just possibly.

I shot up and darted to the window. The past three hours had seemed like the longest of my life. To tell the truth, this whole day had seemed like the longest eternity ever. To watch Max and that loser exchange secret smiles all day, for no other reason than watching me tear my hair out in frustration. It seemed that was why they were doing it, anyway. Prime time entertainment. He was just cruisin' for a bruisin'.

In spite of my dark mood, I had to bite my lip to prevent a smile from spreading when I saw Max climb out of the car—that wasn't even driven by the loser, I might add. Most girls would freak over what she was wearing for a first date. Jeans and a giant sweatshirt. That was _so _Max.

I was greatly reassured by her lack of preparation. Nudge had been denied access to Max's room earlier after she dumped her new giant makeup kit in her room for a "trial run" and showed Max a picture of Kristen Stewart all decked out in raccoon makeup.

Max and the loser climbed up to the porch. I automatically stiffened. It was like in the movie _Hitch, _except I didn't have the advantage of listening for the telltale sign of Max jingling her keys. I wasn't so sure Anne trusted us enough to give us keys. She probably didn't want to come home one day and find the house in ruins.

They said a few words to each other, and he smiled at her in a really perverted way. I half-expected him to start heavy-mouth breathing. I wasn't far off.

He moved in and placed a hand under her chin, kissing her. I felt rage boiling up inside me, and made a move as if to open the window. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, pull them apart? "Excuse me, this house is G-rated!" Yeah, that would work. But Max beat me to action. The rage in my stomach turned to acid as I watched her put her arms around his neck and return the kiss. I didn't want to watch any more, turning away from the window and sinking down on to the bed.

I stared down at my feet. What did she really feel for this guy? What about when we needed to move on? Would she stay here with this suck-up or move on with me—the Flock, I mean?

I was pulled from my thoughts by the front door opening. I jumped up immediately; it was a reflex reaction. I seemed to have a lot of those when it came to Max. I involuntarily glanced at the mirror to make sure I didn't look too concerned. I didn't want her to sense my emotions, even more than usual.

I heard her dismiss Anne, then head up the stairs to her room. I followed a few moments later, steeling myself for a lot of happy jabber.

I don't know what I was expecting, maybe a second Nudge or something. I looked in her room to find a happy shine to her eyes, but a private one. Like she had an inside joke with herself. Her eyes were slightly unfocused, and I knew she was recounting to herself what had just transpired.

I pretended like I wasn't hurt and filled with a bottomless pit of despair and put a hand over my eyes. "Your happy glow. It's blinding," I told her, only halfway joking. It was honestly hard to look at her when I knew how her happiness was caused by another guy.

Max blinked, coming out of her reverie, and rolled her eyes at me. She pulled off her sweatshirt, untucking her wings and letting out a sigh of relief. I felt a little vindictive tug of satisfaction that she hadn't taken off her sweatshirt all night while with… Sam.

I took this as an invitation that she didn't mind me being here, so I shut the door behind me. "They wanted to stay up to wait for you, but Anne made them go to bed." I felt a twinge of amusement remembering Angel's furious expression, especially when Anne had patted her on the head. Those two would put her through the third degree tomorrow. This morning Gazzy had even broken a lampshade, so they could even have the whole bare lightbulb swinging environment.

"Good thinking on Anne's part," Max said. _Eh, not really, _I thought. Not safety-wise, anyhow.

"So? How was it?" Unable to stop the words spewing out of my mouth, I worked to cover it with my body language. Crossing my arms and leaning against the desk, I looked the picture of nonchalance. Or so I hoped. Max had always been able to see through my facades better than anyone else. Evidently it didn't look too well, because her glance at me didn't look away.

With nothing else to do, I continued. "I saw him—what's the phrase? Oh, yeah—'stuck to you like glue.' So I guess you got along all right." Ha. Like I didn't remember that distinct phrase. I had replayed those words in my mind over and over, like a broken record, searching for every meaning that could possibly be taken out of them.

Max took a while to answer. I waited rather impatiently. She would probably be angry. I was such a hypocrite.

"Yeah," she said finally. "There's a lot of that going around." With a meaningful glance at me.

I felt myself almost flush—_almost_—and looked away for a moment to collect myself. What was it about her eyes that made me spill everything going through my mind? I looked back to watch her kick off her shoes, and took advantage of her inattention to sit next to her on the bed.

"So you like him. I don't have to kill him." I was deadly serious. **(A/N: HA! **_**Deadly **_**serious.. hahaha… ha… ahem) **I would go and kill him and his family if she anything derogatory, even if it was just a remark about how he should probably lay off the garlic sandwiches.

"Yeah. He was really nice. We had a good time." Not what I wanted to hear. But still, I heard something in her voice…

"But…?"

When she spoke again, frustration colored her voice. "But so what? He could be the nicest guy in the world, and it doesn't change anything. I'm still a mutant freak. We're still in a situation I hate more every day. We can't trust anyone. We can't solve the code mystery. We can't find our parents – not that it would help if we did."

My heart fell ever so slightly. I had been hoping for criticisms against him. All of the reasons she had for not having a good time were all things not to do with… Sam. All things out of our control. All things I couldn't kill Sam for.

"I saw Ari tonight," Max said, changing the subject completely. My head snapped up. "He was standing outside the ice cream shop. He smiled at me. And there was someone with him…" Max stopped for a moment, as if assessing what she had seen and verifying it as truth. "I saw—Ari had me with him. There was a me outside the window."

I blinked. A _second _Max? Dear God. There goes the neighborhood.

She continued, in rush now, to pour out all her thoughts. "I saw a flash of blond-streaked hair in the van that day they attacked us. And tonight I saw that same hair, outside with Ari. I thought it was my own reflection. But it wasn't a reflection. It was a _me."_

I found myself blurting my thoughts out to her again, like what always happened when I was with her. "Holy crap. A Max on the dark side. Pretty much the worst thing I can think of." I couldn't stop babbling. Diarrhea of the mouth, I supposed. "Jesus. Another Max. A bad Max. Crap." What was the point of even trying to hide my emotions from her when I was just going to spill everything I was thinking at the first bat of her eyelashes?

"That's not all," she said uncertainly. _Not all? What else _could _there be? Mother Teresa, an Eraser? _"You know how I said if I went bad, I'd want you to—do anything you had to, to keep the others safe?"

I automatically stiffened at that memory. "Yeah." How could I forget? That was when I had promised to kill her. At least, that's what she thought I had promised. Cue evil laughter.

"The reason I asked about that… A couple times, when I've looked in a mirror, I've—seen myself morph. Into an Eraser."

Sounded like a practical joke to me. Max, an Eraser. What a laugh. Then I stupidly remembered the Max she had just mentioned seeing with Ari. Still, this Max sitting right next to me, knee touching mine, could never be an Eraser. Too pure at heart. Strangely, I found myself picturing what she must have seen in the mirror. And fought the urge to laugh.

"I bet you looked kind of Pekingesey," I blurted out. Wow. Smooth, Fang.

"What?" She sounded dumbfounded, like that was the last thing she expected me to say. Did she really think I would take a statement like _that _seriously?

"Bet you were kind of cute, pup girl," I said teasingly. _Were? How about now? _I bared my teeth and pretended to pounce at her. "Rrrff!" I growled. God, this girl made me crazy. I loved it.

Her arm shot out to bean me on the side of the head, but I dodged quickly and started laughing. Laughing because of how oblivious she was to both how good she was, and of my first attempt at flirting with her.

She wasn't amused, jumping to her feet with an angry expression. I tried to stifle my laughter, holding up my hands in the universal _Whoa, Max _gesture. "Look, I know you're not an Eraser." Why she even needed to be told this, I had no idea, but it was obviously bugging her. "I don't know why you saw that in the mirror, and I don't know who the other Max is, but I know who you are, all the way through. And you're not an Eraser. And even if I saw you as an Eraser, I would still recognize you. I know you're not evil, no matter what you might look like."

I really meant what I said, especially the part about knowing her all the way through. Hopefully she caught the hint in that one. No such luck. She sank back down on the bed, looking like my words comforted her more than anything else could have.

"Thanks," she said, and to my disbelief I heard tears in her voice. She turned away a little, and I knew she wanted to be left alone. I wanted to stay, though.

Respecting her wishes, I stood up, but couldn't resist touching her again. I ran my hand across her cheek quickly and then through her hair, a brotherly gesture. Yes. Very brotherly. I stroked it once. "You're fine," I told her softly, as if louder words would shatter her.

"Don't you _dare _put any of this in your blog. Don't even think about it for a millisecond."

I inwardly sighed. If my blog really reflected my feelings, I wouldn't actually have it _online. _How stupid would that be?

"Don't flatter yourself," I taunted her, and left my best friend behind in her room to torment herself over her reflection.

**A/N: I really think that last sentence sounds weird… anyways hope everyone's having a good break!!**

**PLEASE review!!!!!**


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